There have been numerous sequels in cinema history that have arguably squandered the potential of their brilliant predecessors more thoroughly than 1972’s Dr. Phibes Rises Again. However, few sequels manage to personally frustrate quite as much. 1971’s The Abominable Dr. Phibes is a film that resonates deeply, a unique concoction of Gothic horror, high camp, outrageously inventive death scenes, dreamlike surreal imagery, and mordant dark humor, all anchored by what is arguably Vincent Price’s most iconic performance. The idea of “more of the same” when the original is of such exceptional quality might seem appealing, but the inherent risk in creating a sequel to a film as uniquely bizarre as the first Doctor Phibes lies in the fact that its strengths are often too elusive to simply replicate. This challenge remains even for a film like Dr. Phibes Rises Again, which shares significant creative DNA with its predecessor. Director Robert Fuest returns, this time also taking on screenwriting duties alongside Robert Blees, after reportedly contributing significantly to the first film’s script by James Whiton and William Goldstein. While some crew members are new, key figures like set designer Brian Eatwell and props master Rex Hobbs are back. And, of course, the absolutely essential element returns: Vincent Price reprising his role as the mute (undead?), disfigured genius and psychopath, Doctor Anton Phibes, despite the fact that the first film, The Abominable Dr. Phibes, concluded with his very definitive and thematically resonant death. But no matter, these details can be overlooked. He is resurrected. The title itself declares it.
And yet, Dr. Phibes Rises Again feels remarkably lifeless. It’s a rehash that seemingly grasps the surface appeal of the original in a purely mechanical way, devoid of artistic understanding. Consequently, its attempts to simply offer more of the same ingredients result in a diminished version of the original, barely even a pale imitation. Defining the precise elements that make The Abominable Dr. Phibes such an oddball masterpiece can be challenging, given its multifaceted nature. However, two key aspects stand out as undeniable strengths: Price’s unparalleled, bombastically camp performance, delivered entirely through voiceover and with limited facial movement beyond his eyes; and the lavish, almost deliriously over-the-top quality of the film’s murders, possessing a baroque weirdness reminiscent of Italian giallo films, yet grounded in the cheap thrills characteristic of American International Pictures, the studio behind its production. Dr. Phibes Rises Again attempts to recapture both of these elements. In both instances, it demonstrably falls short. Let’s examine each in turn.
The Diminished Performance of Vincent Price as Doctor Phibes
Price’s performance in Dr. Phibes Rises Again is perhaps the more perplexing disappointment. On paper, it should work. He employs the same techniques and mannerisms, often in strikingly similar ways to the first film, but the spark of genuine eccentricity is simply absent this time around. A significant factor, I believe, is that Fuest and Blees appear to be consciously writing to Price’s performance in the original, aiming to provide him with even more melodramatic, purple prose than he was given in The Abominable Dr. Phibes, which was already considerable. One particularly noticeable element is the frequent repetition of the name “Victoria,” uttered in nearly every scene, often multiple times, as a theatrical flourish. It’s a name perfectly suited for such dramatic delivery – “Vick-TORRR-ee-aaaaaaah!” – allowing Price to savor each syllable. However, the sheer ubiquity of the name diminishes its impact, reflecting a broader issue with the dialogue writing: an over-reliance on obvious dramatic cues. In the first Doctor Phibes, the speeches were more broadly bombastic and melancholic, and Price’s genius lay in discovering the uniquely deranged inflections that imbued them with the right measure of garish grandeur. In Rises Again, he seems to be merely reciting lines, resulting in a less energized portrayal and a character that feels less surprising and larger than life. This mirrors the problem encountered in writing Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest, where Johnny Depp’s Captain Jack Sparrow was reduced from a slippery, unpredictable trickster to a cartoonish caricature.
Uninspired and Lackluster Kill Scenes
The elaborate murder sequences in Dr. Phibes Rises Again are, quite simply, boring. The Abominable Dr. Phibes benefited significantly from its narrative structure: each death was thematically linked to the plagues of Egypt from the Book of Exodus (or at least, a plausible, fictionalized interpretation of them). Dr. Phibes Rises Again attempts to build on this by relocating the action to Egypt itself, but now the deaths feel like arbitrary, overly complicated traps, conceived simply because Doctor Phibes is portrayed as a supervillain with excessive time on his hands. This includes the implausible notion that he established a vast lair filled with elaborate murder devices before the events of the first film. (This is explicitly stated in dialogue, suggesting he traveled to Egypt to prepare, perhaps in the hope that viewers would overlook the baffling contrivance of him conveniently possessing, for instance, a giant fan the size of a jet engine to simulate a sandstorm). The deaths are vaguely Egyptian-desert-themed: two deaths by sand, one by eagle (which isn’t even a trap, but simply Phibes unleashing his trained killer eagle on a victim), and one involving scorpions – arguably the closest to a genuinely Phibesian death in the film, as a man is trapped in a giant golden scorpion chair with pincers driving spikes into his wrists. However, even this lacks the true flair of the original. The only genuinely effective death scene is the second one, where a man is stuffed into an oversized novelty gin bottle and thrown overboard from a steamer.
Deeper Flaws: Narrative and Production
The issues with Dr. Phibes Rises Again extend beyond the diminished quality of Price’s performance and the uninspired murders. It is, on the whole, a poorly constructed film. This becomes evident even before the story properly begins: the movie opens with a narrator (Gary Owens) rushing through a summary of the first film’s plot over a montage of footage from The Abominable Dr. Phibes, delivered in an authoritative yet breathlessly excited tone reminiscent of a WWII-era newsreel announcer. While somewhat artless, this might be forgivable; despite only 15 months separating the releases of the two films, in the pre-home video era, memories of The Abominable Dr. Phibes might have faded. However, this recap proves detrimental, as the sequel’s premise clashes with the nuanced details of the original. Worse still, the recap is disorganized, out of sequence, and largely irrelevant, dwelling on points inconsequential to either film’s narrative while glossing over the actual dramatic core of the first movie.
Consequently, by the time Dr. Phibes Rises Again truly commences, a sense of annoyance has already set in, and the film does little to alleviate it. The central conflict this time revolves around Phibes’s quest to transport his deceased wife’s body to an Egyptian location where he can resurrect her – but only during a specific planetary alignment occurring once every 2000 years – and Darius Biederbeck (Robert Quarry), who seeks the same location to achieve immortality and has stolen the map from Phibes’s lair sometime in the three years since the first film concluded. Two Scotland Yard investigators from the first film, Inspector Trout (Peter Jeffrey) and Superintendent Waverly (John Cater), become involved when Doctor Phibes and his new mute assistant Vulnavia (Valli Kemp, replacing Virginia North) murder Biederbeck’s imposing manservant (Milton Reid). Their initial attempt involves clockwork snakes; when these prove ineffective (the clockwork snakes are portrayed by real snakes when not in close-up), they resort to shooting a snake-shaped dagger into his ear. This scene epitomizes the diminished creativity in the film’s deaths compared to its predecessor.
The addition of Biederbeck as a primary antagonist introduces another problematic narrative thread. Unlike the first film, where the police provided mild comic relief, Dr. Phibes Rises Again presents a genuine antagonist in Biederbeck (oddly credited as a “protagonist” alongside Price at the film’s end), who consumes significant screen time. Regrettably, this time is poorly utilized. Quarry delivers a lackluster performance, further hampered by a lifeless English accent that suppresses any potential energy. AIP was actively promoting Quarry as a new leading man in the early 1970s; Dr. Phibes Rises Again was released immediately after his successful lead roles in Count Yorga, Vampire and its sequel. However, his career never reached those heights, and his uninspired performance here exemplifies why. The studio’s ambition to establish a new horror lead (effectively as a replacement for Price, leading to reported tension between the actors on set) took precedence, resulting in a film that grinds to a halt whenever it shifts focus from Doctor Phibes to his unengaging rival and his generic henchmen.
However, even Doctor Phibes himself is not at his best in this sequel. His presence simply feels less special. And his interactions with Vulnavia, a highlight of the first film, suffer from North’s absence. Kemp, a fashion model with limited acting experience, is miscast as Vulnavia #2. She is not an actor, and while it might seem unfair to criticize her for lacking acting ability, the result is precisely that: a lack of acting. She moves through the sets and executes the blocking, but fails to convey any sense of personality. Furthermore, she and Price share no on-screen chemistry. North’s Vulnavia in the first film possessed an otherworldly, uncanny quality; its absence is keenly felt here.
Overall, Dr. Phibes Rises Again is missing the essential ingredient of weirdness. While there are fleeting moments of the bizarre and surreal, primarily aboard the steamer to Africa – Phibes’s illuminated robot band, the gin bottle – Fuest largely fails to replicate the dreamlike theatricality of the first film, even when explicitly attempting to do so, as seen in the chrome staircase dominating Phibes’s Egyptian lair. The Abominable Dr. Phibes functioned as a series of baroque tableaux; Dr. Phibes Rises Again mostly presents mediocre conversation scenes, hoping that Price can salvage them. Sadly, he cannot. Of all the “colorful madman murders people in overcomplicated ways” films Price starred in over the years (this being, by my count, the fourth of six, and the second in a run of four consecutive films in as many years), Dr. Phibes Rises Again is easily my least favorite.
Body Count: 7, two fewer than in the first movie. As previously noted, the reduced absurdity of the deaths is an even greater flaw than their lower number.
Tim Brayton is the editor-in-chief and primary critic at Alternate Ending. He can be found on Letterboxd, writing about even more movies than he does here.
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